WHAT’S IN A NAME?

By Sharon May

So who can call themselves “writer?” Anyone who picks up a pen or sits at a computer and begins to put words on paper? Does one have to be published? Or do the desire and effort define us?

In Freshman Composition, I used a rhetoric entitled, Everyone’s an Author, which approaches writing as something all of us do on a daily basis. Its goal is to help students understand the rhetorical aspects of writing in its various forms as well as pushing them to take writing more seriously and to view themselves as having the ability to write.

While the textbook aims for students to produce “good” writing, there is an underlying assumption that the act of writing is greater than the quality of the writing. In a sense, that is like calling myself an athlete because I try to play a sport, though I may never win a game.

Years ago, I was discussing a piece of my writing with a friend who also writes. He informed me, in a way that might be called condescending, that he writes only for himself as if that should be the goal for everyone.   

If there is no intended audience, is it “real” writing? After a mental breakdown during my Ph.D. program (no cause and effect implied), I couldn’t/wouldn’t finish a dissertation in good faith. Writing it felt like an exercise in mental masturbation, written for no audience beyond a handful of scholars. Except for a few presentations, I quit writing academic papers and turned to creative writing.

As of May, 10^th, I began calling myself a writer since that will be my vocation after retiring from teaching. I’ve written for years but only now do I feel comfortable claiming that label, which may surprise people who know me well.

I have won awards for both academic writing and creative writing, but those for academic writing made me feel like a scholar, not a writer. I co-authored and published a college textbook, but that didn’t make me feel like a writer either though I have made more money from that book than I have yet to make from my creative writing. I have always envisioned an isolated author slaving away, so a group effort didn’t qualify me as a writer.

Many of us value fiction and creative non-fiction over college textbooks. Fiction and memoirs are mystical creations, not dry tomes of information or how-to books. Anyone in the field can write those, right?

Being a writer is establishing a mindset about who we are and what we do. Most of my students don’t buy into the theory that they are writers, no matter how many times I or the textbook called them that. They have no intention of writing any more than they have to while I want to do little else now.

So what are your assumptions about writers?  How do they affect your writing?  

AN INSPIRATION OF THE HEART

By Nick Rolon

Author, Roy T. Bennett once said, “Don’t be pushed around by the fears in your mind.  Be led by the dreams in your heart”.  

My parents, Teresa and Nicholas Rolon, met in Brooklyn, NY.  My mother was Irish, and My father was Spanish.  At the time, their parents had opposed the relationship.  They lived in apartment buildings across from each other and would use walkie talkie radios to communicate in secrecy.  Bike rides, talks at the soda shop, walks from school, and trips to Coney Island soon led to this real life “West Side Story” love affair.  They were in fearless love and would lay on their beach blankets dreaming of a future together.  Their love for each other inspired others and acceptance from their parents. They married on Saturday, September 19, 1965 in a Brooklyn church.   Our life would begin above a bakery with the first of five children born and the smell of oven baked bread from the bakery waking us each morning.   On a fall day in 2015, My parents would renew their wedding vows at the same alter; both looking into each other’s teary eyes and saying “I Do” again – 50 years later.    

In the spring of 2016, my mother, Teresa Rolon, was having trouble walking and fell several times including during a doctor visit.  She was taken to a nearby hospital for further evaluation and an MRI was completed to examine her brain.  At 73 years old, she had led a life of relatively good health.  Aside from her hospitals stays during the births of myself and my siblings, she had never been admitted to a hospital.   A biopsy further revealed our worst thoughts – Lymphoma of the brain: a rare cancer that starts in the lymph tissues/blood of the brain.  The most loving, giving, caring person was about to enter the battle for her life.

She experienced the depression, the fear, the pain, the self-doubt and at times the loss of hope.  With the love and support of my father, brothers and sisters, family, friends, she was determined to fight back against the disease in her mind with the power of love in her heart.  During the years of chemotherapy treatments, countless lab works, hospital stays, doctor visits, physical & cognitive therapy, and counseling sessions Mom was gracious and giving.  The hospital hallway walks with the IV drip pole, the therapist chants of “left foot right foot left foot right foot” teaching her to walk again, the loss of appetite, and she persevered.  One day I found her sitting on her hospital bed with my father and both were wearing Red Noses to support Walgreens Red Nose Day campaign to end child poverty and then she was at a Metlife Stadium Cancer Survivor event speaking words of encouragement to survivors.

On Monday, May 20^th, 2019 my mother will be celebrating her 76^th year birthday thanks to the many nurses, doctors, therapists, family, friends, and her devoted husband, the North Bergen, NJ community and Samuel Singer, M.D. of the John Theurer Cancer Center /Hackensack University Medical Center who has been incredible from day one.  Thanks to her favorite singer – Ed Sheeran who motivated her through his songs while receiving treatment- She attended his concert in 2018.  

Our life experiences can inspire our writing:

· Observing my mother re-learn to write during her rehabilitation inspired me to write again – never take writing for granted.

· I estimate my mother has handwritten over 5,000 cards & letters to family & friends – I learned early in life the power of words and how they can inspire, encourage, and support others.

· I am inspired to write about my parents 54-year romance which began in Brooklyn, NY; A Brooklyn Love Story might be a good book title.

· Writing is therapeutic- Maya Angelou said, “There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside of you”.  

· In February 2019, my mother began writing her own life story with help from her family.  The handwritten words, at times difficult to read, inspired everyone and proved that a setback is not the end of your story. This example motivates me to continue writing no matter the obstacle.  

This year marks the 70^th Anniversary of celebrating Mental Health Month in May.  The theme this year is expanding  upon last year’s theme of #4Mind4Body and taking it to the next level exploring the topics of animal companionship (including pets and support animals), spirituality, humor, work-life balance, recreation, and social connections as many ways to boost mental health and general wellness.  Please visit the website below for more information.

www.mentalhealthamerica.net

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline 1-800-273-8255 or text HOME to 741741

www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org

www.cancer.org

THE UNRELIABLE NARRATOR

By Kasie Whitener

Christine doesn’t remember anything. I’ve just started a new book by a favorite author and the opening chapter is told from the point of view of an amnesia victim. What an incredible lens through which to bring a story.

Without remembering anything, Christine can’t tell us where she is, who she is, or what brought her into these circumstances. She doesn’t know the people who enter the room despite them knowing her. She is relying solely upon what she sees and feels right now. Unclouded by exposition, this narrator is confused and, as a reader, I am too. Moreover, I’m curious.

The unreliable narrator is a first-person account that can’t be trusted. So often we take for granted that the narrator’s point of view is absolute: it’s how the story really unfolded. But the unreliable narrator makes us question if what we’re seeing is true or just her perception.

Faulkner used an unreliable narrator in The Sound and the Fury. Nick Carraway qualifies as an unreliable narrator in The Great Gatsby. The Moviegoer by Walker Percy and Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger both build empathy for their narrator before starting to hint there’s something unstable and untrustworthy about them.

Arguably all first-person narrators are unreliable. Anytime we are seeing things only from a single character’s point of view, we are subject to the lens through which that person sees the world. Experience, values, and ambition all cloud a character’s perception and the first-person narrator is an extremely limiting view point because we only get the other characters through the first-person.

Nick Carraway doesn’t know what Gatsby wants or how he feels, he can only report what he sees and make inferences based on Gatsby’s actions. We think Carraway is reasonable, but with all those parties, he may have been drunk more often than not. In The Girl on the Train, Paula Hawkins makes one of the narrators an alcoholic. Intentionally casting doubt on what that narrator thinks she saw.

Before I Go to Sleep by S.J. Watson also deals with an amnesia-suffering narrator. The fragments of memory captured in the woman’s journal reveal, slowly, the terrible circumstances in which she finds herself. It’s a compelling thriller made all the more dramatic because for most of the book the reader is as confused as the narrator.

Some dangers to the unreliable narrator are reader confusion and the writer must decide how much confusion she thinks the reader will tolerate before putting the book down. Admittedly, The Girl on the Train had to rely upon a cast of narrators to offset the drunk woman, but it also seemed to turn those other seemingly trustworthy people into unreliables over the course of the novel, too.

Most importantly, the unreliable narrator is both realistic (we are all unreliable because we see things only from our own perspective) and limiting in a way that might frustrate not just the reader, but also the author. But it’s so totally worth it.

THE LATEST ADDITION

Meet a New SCWA Columbia II Blogger

RUTH P SAUNDERS

Ruth retired in February, 2015, after 30 years of teaching, research and service in the Department of Health Promotion and Education in the Arnold School of Public Health at the University of South Carolina, Columbia. Retirement afforded her the opportunity to begin writing creative nonfiction in earnest after years of dabbling. In addition to focusing on writing, Ruth is also a visual artist and has worked for about four years with oil, oil pastel, gouache, graphite, collage, and mixed media. She plans to combine her passions for literary and visual arts. Her current goal is to develop professionally as a creative nonfiction writer and to write, illustrate and publish a collection of memories and stories about growing up in rural Lowcountry South Carolina in the 1950s and 1960s.

TRANSITIONING from ACADEMIC to CREATIVE NONFICTION WRITING

By Ruth P Saunders

I enjoyed 30 years in academia and produced the expected scientific publications. I liked academic writing, but by retirement four years ago I felt ready to explore more artistic approaches.  One of my retirement goals is to channel my love of writing into creative nonfiction, to explore and reflect on memories in essays and stories. Here are my thoughts about similarities and differences between the two nonfiction styles.

First, some similarities. It is important to know your audience and use clear language as well as appropriate grammar and punctuation. Academic and creative nonfiction pieces need a beginning, middle, and end. Each paragraph conveys a single point, and transition sentences guide the flow of the narrative. A well-written manuscript of either type conveys a clear message. Feedback from peers is essential for effective writing in any context.

Academic and creative nonfiction differ in several ways, as well. In a rather academic fashion, I have categorized these into purpose, audience, structure, content, and language.

Differences between Academic and Creative Nonfiction Writing

	Academic	Creative
Purpose	Advancing scientific knowledge and informing	Personal expression and entertainment
Audience	Professionals within a field of study	Broader audience
Structure	Highly structured by journal-specific publication guidelines	Flexible depending upon purpose, audience and intended outlet
Content	Narrowly focused professional topic describing research methods and results, systematic literature review or professional commentary	Describes author’s perception of a wide range of factual experiences or events
Language	Formal, often containing field-specific jargon and abbreviations; intended to convey an objective perspective	Informal, using simple words that are clear; presumed to convey a subjective perspective

Academic manuscripts are formal in tone and intended to advance scientific knowledge. They are directed at scientists and professionals within specific disciplines using field-specific technical language. The content focuses on a specific topic, builds upon previously reported work, and is presumably guided by scientific methods designed to increase objectivity. Manuscript structure and formatting is prescribed by field-specific academic journals to maintain objectivity and consistency across time. Guidelines include headings for major sections of the document (e.g., Abstract, Introduction, Methods, Results, Conclusions, References) and how to format citations of previous scientific work in the narrative and final reference list.

Creative nonfiction writing is more flexible and less formal. It is subjective, focusing on the author’s experiences and reflections to entertain a more broadly defined audience. The language should not require specialized knowledge to understand, and the structure is simpler and clearer. It should be interesting, meaningful, relevant, and engaging to the reader.

Academic writing is comfortable, and I continue to publish. But I want to reflect upon my life more subjectively, with a hint of humor. I want to honor memories that have shaped the present and share them in meaningful ways. Creative nonfiction writing enables me to do this and helps me grow as a writer and a person.

I HOPE I’M WRONG

By Raegan Teller

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about bookstores. As a child, I believed they were magical spaces. I could spend hours walking up and down the aisles, running my hand reverently across the spines of beloved books. It never occurred to me that one day I would doubt bookstores are relevant.

Over the past year, reports have enthusiastically proclaimed headlines like “Independent Bookstores Are Thriving” or “Independent Bookstores Grow for the Second Year After a 20-Year Decline.” After reading many of these articles and hoping they are right, I’m not convinced. While many of the independent bookstores have survived, and even grown, they have drastically changed their business models. Many are in smaller towns, and they host a wide variety of events, not just the typical author signings. These stores have rebranded themselves as entertainment and social hangouts. I applaud their vision. However, it’s likely many of the other, less visionary, indie bookstores won’t fare as well. And, the future of big book stores, like Barnes & Noble and Books-A-Million, is definitely not good.

What does this all mean for writers? Where do we sell our work? As one author recently said to me, “You can’t think out of the box, because there is no box.” She’s right. I suspect if you looked at all the places, physical and online, where writers have an opportunity to sell their work, you’d see that there are more places than ever. Short fiction is on the rise again, and people are reading on their phones, listening to audio books or to serialized books on podcasts. Despite the current decline, I think ebooks will rebound, because it’s just too darn convenient to carry hundreds of books in the palm of your hand. The bulk of today’s readers are middle-aged, and as they grow older, many of them may turn to e-readers, like Kindle and Nook, because they can enlarge the print. Young people today use digital textbooks, so it’s highly likely that if they read a book, it will be an ebook. Having said all this, my point is not to make a pitch for digital or audio books. In fact, I sell far more print copies of my books that I do ebooks. I want bookstores and print books to go on forever. But I’m also a realist.

The point I am trying to make is that writers should not assume the decline of physical bookstores necessarily signals a further decline in reading. As my statistics professor pounded into me, “correlation is not causation.” These two issues are related but separate. As writers, we must seek out alternative venues for book signings, explore audio and digital options, develop online sales opportunities, and keep the faith. I believe humans crave stories and will continue to seek them out in some form. But I also believe that bookstores will become irrelevant.

Just know that I hope I’m wrong.

REALITY CHECK

By Rex Hurst

A lot of times when we’re all starting out as writers - no matter what age we throw our hat in the arena - we often stumble about trying to find our place in the vast and crowded literary marketplace. Everyone wants to be the next Harper Lee (except I don’t think Harper Lee wanted to be Harper Lee) and produce the great literary novel that fills the minds of generations with soulful insights. But that’s probably not going to happen.

In fact, let me assure you that the email inboxes of various “legitimate” agents and “serious” publishers are full of proposed great American novels. Maybe five percent will make it to market. I myself fell into this trap, sending serious story after story to these various despots, these self-proclaimed last bastions of literary merit in the West, only to be rejected and spit on at every turn. In reality these places are filled with nepotism and incestuous relationships, so if you’re not in the club, you’re not even considered.

As such I found myself adrift, constantly questioning whether I had talent or not, that's when I wrote my first horror story - or rather novel. It was supposed to be a short story but took on a life of its own. Well I put that together and it was snapped up by the first publisher I sent it to. With that encouragement I wrote up my next one. It too was immediately accepted by the publisher I sent it to.

It didn't take a rocket scientist to see that I had found my niche. Out of desperation, out of anger, out of sheer exasperation I found it. My point is if you are stuck in a rut, can't get anything published, try writing in a different genre. It could be that you haven’t found your niche. Romance, fantasy, sci-fi, horror, mystery, crime, and so on. Try your hand at a bunch. See if you can’t get a nibble from a different type of story.

USE DIGITAL LISTENING TO PROMOTE YOUR WORK

By Kasie Whitener

My friend Big Redd once discovered a conversation between a baseball player and his favorite Christian Rap artist in which the player thanked the artist for providing his walk-up music. Big Redd reached out to the player and promoted his own album. Three days later, it was his song being played on the Rockies’ PA system when that player stepped up to bat.

Big Redd’s strategy of “social listening” was to find the conversations that are relevant to your topic and then participate in them to promote your work. He called it “social” because he uses Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook social media platforms to do his listening.

I call the strategy “digital listening” because I expanded it to the blogs, podcasts, email newsletters, and events being promoted by other writers. You can practice this marketing strategy in three easy steps:

Find the influencers.

You probably already have your favorite writing blogs (like this one) and you may have liked several authors’ Facebook pages. Expand that list of follows to include the hashtags being used on Twitter and Instagram to link conversations. Then make a list of the eight or 10 places you’ll visit on your digital listening tour.

Create a habit.

Take to the internet once a week for research. Work through your list of bloggers, email newsletters, Twitter and Instagram hashtags, and Facebook groups and author pages to see what everyone is posting. Look for repeated phrases and common themes. Then Google those phrases to find even more content (or not) written about that subject.

Last week our Write On SC radio show had the topic “traveling to break writers’ block.” It didn’t start out that way. It started as “the traveling writer” because I figured every writer uses road trips for inspiration. When you Google “travel” and “writer” together you get endless blogs for Travel Writers which is a genre in and of itself. As these were not what I was after, I kept re-combining the words until I found some resources that talked about using travel to break a block.

The lack of search results told me that this topic was a place in the digital world with little to no content. I should write about it! That’s step three.

Join the Conversation.

Create content that contributes to the conversation. Using the keywords, hashtags, and influencer posts you’ve discovered, build something new. Then share that something new with all the people and conversations that you researched. Tweet your article using their hashtag. Comment on their blogs with a link to your own.

As writers, we often create out of an inspired frenzy making our efforts more self-serving than audience-serving. But when we need to market ourselves and our work, we have to find the audience. Let the digital world be your pond. Go fishing for readers by joining the relevant conversations already in progress.

THE NEXT CHAPTER

By Sharon May

May 11, 2019, starts a new chapter in my writing career with my retirement from teaching. I started working summers at 15 while in school, and had my first full-time job at 21. With work and school, I’ve always had excuses not to write anything besides academic papers and comments to students – no time nor energy.

Wasn’t like I didn’t have lots of ideas for creative non-fiction and fiction. I wrote in spurts over the years and have several incomplete manuscripts in a file cabinet, waiting. I promise myself that I will do what writers are supposed to do: write daily and immerse myself in the craft and business of writing.

I’m an early riser, but my circadian clock might shift. I plan to start my day with writing, just after breakfast, for at least an hour or two. By then, my wife should be up and about, and we will decide what housework and errands we need to knock out that day. I will use time away from writing for incubation to assess what my work and determine the next step. Maybe I’ll be driven to write more later in the day.

Reading improves writing. I tell my students that once a day. It has been difficult to read fiction as much as I would like to or need to with paper grading hanging over me for the past 30 years. My new schedule will allow me to set aside at least a couple of hours a day for reading. God knows I’ve got enough books on the shelves.

Of course, there is also a plan for exercise – daily walks in the neighborhood and personal training twice a week. Need to get fit if I plan to live long enough to finish all those manuscripts.

Getting more involved in writing community would also be a benefit. Besides writers’ workshops, I would like to attend conferences, at least a couple a year, particularly those held in Appalachia. Conversations about writing spurs my creativity.

There will be times I can’t keep this schedule. While traveling, I plan to journal. I usually carry a laptop in case I have a chance to write, but honestly, our vacations have very little downtime. The key is to get back writing immediately after traveling.

Will I stick to writing plan? I’ve made excuses and procrastinated long enough. It is time for discipline even when distractions come along. I need to be better with setting boundaries with friends and family. With discipline, I will revise my novel into a second draft and start shopping it around as well as continue working on my memoir.

I’m looking forward to this new chapter so much so I’ve found my job to be a struggle for the first time in my career. I just want to write, read, and of course, travel, and I want to start today. I am chomping at the bit. Yeah, my head has already retired.

WRITING BY HAND

By Sandra Schmid

There’s a current trend to get rid of stuff. We walk through our house, picking up each thing, asking if we love it. If not, Goodwill gets it. 

I’m trying the same technique on my manuscript. Chapters are dropped that don’t move the story. Excess words, slashed. Till eventually, I can hold something I love. 

The question arises, how do I know when I love my writing?

I’ve been writing the same story for twenty years. Drafts have accumulated. I’m a hoarder of words.

  

To rediscover my love, my hand and eyes becomes the gauge for whether the words stay or get thrown away. If copying a paragraph by hand feels torturous to my arthritic fingers, it’s probably ready for Goodwill. On the other hand, if the pen floats effortlessly across the page, I’m reconnecting with the heart and soul of my story. Those are the words worth keeping. 

When my eyes speed across the page, skimming to get through, I’m bored. My reader will be too. But when my eyes slow down to take a long, sensuous look, I start copying. 

Unlike the current trend to throw everything away, I advise keeping copies of our waste. Sometimes, old words trigger the best parts of our book. 

Reconnect with an old manuscript stashed away in a suitcase. Romance it. Feel it with your hand, your eyes, your heart and soul. Write until you love it.

FICTIONS for WEIRD PRIMATES

By Caleb Pennington

I’m a weird primate, half hairy, named Caleb. I have the mystery of my existence to solve. I’m scared that there isn’t a purpose.

One day I picked up a fruit of sorts. It was the letter A. I asked: “The hell is this?” I said: “It’s the letter A.” I then knew that it was real. Like bedrock to a mountain. Hardly ever changing. It made me feel good. Comforted. The world has real things in it. Things I could piece together.

So I wrote: The letter A is a standalone fact. It is objective. There is not one literate half hairy primate on this big life ball planet that won’t get it. It is a tool. It can create something. I couldn’t argue with it. I told myself: I think I just learned something real.

Promising, the realization was. I started typing. I wanted words in sequence to be real like math. But a math of the spirit. My spirit doesn’t seem to be half primate. Sometimes, maybe it’s a human and thinks about all the problems of not having a purpose. My human side wanted to read a book. It did. It then said: These fictions and myths have a reason for living. The letters that makes them is as objective and durable as the bedrock on this planet.

So, I started introducing myself to fictions and myths.

After a while, I said to myself: I made a friend, today. Fictions meet myth, myth meet fiction. My name is Caleb.

Fiction said: Nice meeting you. I don’t get to meet many people, these days.

Myth said: Yes, likewise.

I asked was: Why are you here?

They both said: To answer.

I asked: What? ‘Cause I have some questions.

Myth said: Hypotheticals pertaining to your survival, the reasons for the natural world, the reasons humans must adhere to a natural order. They die when they don’t. They suffer.

Fiction said: Hypotheticals pertaining to your spirit in the context of your experience.

I said: Damn, that’s pretty deep fellers.

They said: No shit. You must not be too educated if you didn’t already know that we’re deep.

I said: I’ve read Nietzsche.

Myth said: He made me feel relevant, again.

Fiction said: He breathed life into my lungs.  

I thought that was pretty cool. Fiction did too, so he made me a recommendation. He gave me Richard Bachman, or Stephen King in disguise. His writing is crisp, but it felt like someone was just trying to put me in a demonic world that scared me as a half primate. I wasn’t feeling too human. I still wanted a purpose for being here. So fiction handed me 100 Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez. I realized I was going to die at the end of it. That I couldn’t escape time. My family couldn’t, either.  

After I read that, I had to go over to my mom’s house because she is my mom. She was on the couch, watching T.V. Gabriel Garcia Marquez made me realize she was going to die. I told her I love her. It felt good. For thirty minutes, I wanted my purpose in life to be loving my mom. It felt good.  

So I said to fiction: “You know, that book made me want to spend time with my mom.”

Fiction said: “Understandable. All loved ones pass away in that fiction you read. As they do in life.”

I decided to pose some questions to him. Because he gave me some answers when I was with my mom. I asked: Could we come to the weakest’s rescue? Would we if they were a dog? A cow? A fetus? Are you too good to save a fetus?

Fiction and me are trying to answer them. I think that’s the reason I try to know him. He helps me figure things out.

  

  

HEAD-HOPPING VS FREE INDIRECT DISCOURSE

By Bonnie Stanard

I’m back with point of view (POV). Bear with me. I’m trying to turn my head-hopping into the professionally respected Free and Indirect Discourse (FID) ) . (If you read this nomenclature as wordy, I find it even wordier to write.) Head-hopping, after all, is a signpost of an amateurish writer. I’ve been there, and when workshop critics suggest confusion about POV in my work, I cringe.

Online information about FID does little to distinguish it from head-hopping (or from omniscient POV, for that matter). Some descriptions apply to both, and you’re left in more fog than when you began. What is the difference? I’m not going to clear the fog, but I’ll tell you the conclusions I’ve reached.

Narrators in both approaches presume to third person, but in both, Third Limited POV is scattershot throughout the fabric of the story. Neither can be considered Third Limited because we’re not confined to one character’s viewpoint. Both approaches get into the heads of various characters and put forth individual thoughts, feelings, and motivation.

One way to differentiate the bad from the good: head-hopping gives you whiplash with its herky-jerky POV whereas FID doesn’t.

The difference, as I see it, is whether or not the narrator holds on to her voice and keeps it consistent. So? Put another way, the FID narrator maintains a pivotal voice even as she flits about describing the inner life of characters. It deteriorates to head-hopping when the voices of the characters overcome the narrator’s control. That is to say, the characters bounce their thoughts around in a power struggle with nobody minding the plot.

As I aspire to FID, I am reminded to protect my singular narrator, or teller of the story, from being usurped by the characters. For instance, I may write “John thought his mother ignored him.” There—it sounds like I’m in John’s head. That’s fine as long as the narrator doesn’t capitulate to John in a way that elevates John to the level of narrator. Since John doesn’t know the plot nor where anything is going, his thoughts are merely pieces of a puzzle.

You keep the narrator from being overtaken by John by pulling back (it’s about distance between narrator and story/characters) and asserting control; make it clear that the story teller is describing John, not John telling us about John. Add a sentence such as “John would have denied it, but he always thought he was being ignored.” John wouldn’t talk about himself in this way. This is the FID narrator saying, “John, you’re not telling this story. Those are your thoughts, but I’m going to tell them.”

The FID narrator makes objective observations that serve to distance the teller of the story from the characters in the story. The idea is to talk about the characters instead of talking for them.

In head-hopping, readers know the insecurity of having no anchor, even if they don’t consciously realize it. The bottom line is that your narrator is the boss, regardless of how many characters try to tell you otherwise.

You may realize by now that the FID narrator has much in common with an omniscient narrator. But let’s stick to one fog at a time.

THE BOOK HANGOVER

By Kasie Whitener

What must the teen-aged clerk have thought of me at 9:57 on a Tuesday night, the hum of a vacuum in the back of the store, jammy pants tucked into my Ugg boots, hair snarled into a messy bun, wild-eyed and profusely thanking him?

Weeks before, I tore through The Bronze Horseman, secretly scheduling meetings into my work day so I could sneak into conference rooms and read. I had purchased the book in Fremont, California, on Monday afternoon. By Friday at 1 p.m. when I boarded the plane home, all 810 pages of it were over. I hadn’t read that fast or that much since graduate school. I was reawakened to the power of an intoxicating story. And I was hungover for weeks afterward.

Sometimes you only recognize the book hangover when you start the next book in your stack and feel an overall “meh” as you turn the pages. The book hangover makes you bitter about the writer’s inability to produce more work. I once considered burning effigies of Cassandra Clare when I learned the next book of hers would not be released for 18 months. The book hangover makes you jealous wondering just what that author was able to do that twisted you so desperately into knots.

Like getting intoxicated, you know while you’re doing it that this will end badly. As you near the end of the book, your spirit sags. The pages in your right hand feel too light to meet a satisfying end. How many things will go unsolved?

It’s not just good books that cause a hangover; any book that connects with you at the right time, in the right way can do it. You feel euphoric and invincible until it’s over. Then, parched, lethargic, grumpy, and suffering in a way only cheeseburgers and milkshakes can solve, you lie on the couch and binge watch Netflix swearing to never read again.

I want to write the book that does that. The one that gets the reader so deeply invested, s/he will ignore family, work, and the Super Bowl to keep reading. I want to write characters like tequila shots and turning points like toasts, climaxes like bar anthems sung at the top of our lungs and denouements like fervent whispers that lead to one-night-stands.

I want my readers drunk on my novel. And afterward, when they’ve finished, I want them spent, heartbroken, and lonely. Like I was after The Bronze Horseman.

In desperation one night in Cincinnati, I trolled the Amazon listing, a jilted lover internet-stalking the book that had meant so much to me.

And learned there was a sequel.

Wild with desire, I called Barnes & Noble to check availability. Told them I’d come right over.

“Don’t close yet!” I begged.

Their last copy of Tatiana and Alexander sold, opened, and reading before I even made it back to my car. And like the hair of the dog bartenders prescribe, I was drunk again within minutes.

THE ART OF REJECTION

By El Ochiis

Can rejection be an art?  Can it ever be acceptable? 

The first time I was rejected for a piece of writing, I curled into a fetal position and subsisted on a diet of kale and oatmeal for, well, five days.  I love kale but, at three meals a day, that’s just gross.

When I look back, I don’t feel so much like I had failed as much as I had submitted something that was not ready to be published. I had dated this guy whose sibling was a famous New York agent.  He was impressed by a piece of writing I had published in a publication.  In hindsight, he was trying to impress me with a connection to a world that I had dreamed and I, for some unexpected reason, wanted to impress him with my writing talent, which was silly because I really wasn’t crazy about him.  But, I figured if his connection to the tough world of New York agency could get me a fast road to acclaim, maybe I’d come to love him. 

Of course, I heard my grandma mah’s voice in an ethical chamber of my head: “Never use people for your own gain.” 

Firstly, grandma mah was not living in an empty loft on Varick Street in NYC with a view of an entrance to the Holland Tunnel, to New Jersey, no heat and an empty refrigerator.  To be fair, I couldn’t afford electricity so there was little need to put food into an unplugged apparatus that was supposed to keep stuff cold. The point was, rejection still sucked.

Recently, I’ve read about a movement, in NYC, whose members have come to embrace rejections like they were awards. Some writers were aiming for their one hundredth rejection slip.  Who has skin that thick? One writer even parlayed her rejections into a teaching gig at a workshop and college.

Then, I heard that voice of grandma mah again: “Turn your lemons into lemonade, my child.” 

I am not even that fond of some yellow, bitter fruit in a glass of water with sugar. However, I must admit, they might have been right, both granny and the writer with a centennial of rejections.  Still, I’ve always found it difficult to grow titanium skin. So, with my second rejection, I took to a more pronounced fetal position and played blues songs for twenty-one days straight.  This rejection took my guts from behind my rib cage and played bongo drums with them.  I had turned down an offer for a piece, I deemed a literary masterpiece, because the producer’s creative vision was for a cable show in some foreign market. How dare he use my literary musing, that rivaled Tolstoy, in my opinion, as fodder for a commercial endeavor – oh the horror. 

It was my “awakening” when an editor reminded me that Tolstoy was dead. Um, now was that a metaphor for my writing? I checked and she was right, figuratively, literally and metaphorically.  Damn you Russian men who shaped my view of how to pen stories. Was I blaming someone else for my own failure?

Never mind, I heard your agreement there granny.

But, undoubtedly, we have to learn to accept failure – well that was what I would told my offspring to make them feel better.  Without failure, there is no success – Michael Jordan said he missed hundreds of the shots that he threw – look at his career. Writing is not basketball; writing is sitting down and ripping out your intestines, putting them back in again and describing it so that a reader would, not only understand the process, but believe it.

Couple that with solitude, poverty and anxiety. 

Who would apply for such a job?  A writer would, that’s who.  That’s why rejections, though they suck, have to be tolerable. 

How many times did I use the word “Suck”?  Crap, this is so going to be rejected – I’ve assumed the fetal position.